Touring America
by BAR18
Summary: After the Rangers took Whiskey Hotel, several Divisions are brought in to help kick the Russians off US soil. This is the story of the 1st Infantry, and how they witnessed combat from DC to NYC to kick Ivan out of the US. My first fic, so go easy on me.
1. APC Ride

**Touring America**

**Chapter 1: APC Ride**

Pvt. Laurence Miller looked around the cramped interior of the Bradley he was in; he could see 5 other soldiers sitting in the back of the M2 APC. He looked to his left, and noticed a soldier sitting next to him, he could see the patch on his shoulder: a triangular shape that had its pointed end pointing downwards, and in the middle was a large crimson colored number one in the middle. That got the 19 year-old thinking, remembering him of the words:

"_No Mission too difficult, no sacrifice too great, duty first"_

A chill ran up the young soldier's spine, those were words he heard many times uttered by his 90 year old grandfather, the reasons he joined the army, that was the motto of the US 1st Infantry Division, the Big Red One, as they were appropriately called.

His grandfather's tales of his service in first WWII then Korea were the exact reasons he joined the Big Red One. He thought of his grandfather, a Sergeant, leading his squad to multiple clashes with the enemy, he had been through it all, from North Africa where the Americans landed to support the British, all the way to Germany and Czechoslovakia where the Second World War ended. For years, his grandfather's tales of his service fascinated him, and he sprouted a lifelong dream of joining the military and the 1st Infantry.

The young Private also harbored a love for Dinosaurs, having been a huge fan of the movie Land Before Time when he was growing up, and even when he _was_ grown up, so much so that his Army buddies nickname him "Longneck" for this obsession. In fact, he even put a little picture of a Dinosaur on his helmet, just for individualism. He inspected his M16A4 assault rifle; it was in prime condition and was ready for action, much like the young Private himself.

A voice beckoned him "Hey Longneck, look alive, will ya?"

He looked up away from his assault rifle and towards the direction of the voice, it was from a skinny nerdy looking soldier sitting across from him, his M4 carbine at the ready, it was Private David Beck, a slightly older fellow who was preparing to enter Yale university when he decided to join the military and put his college time on hold.

"Sarge says we're near the combat zone."

"Man, I'm starvin', haven't eaten nothun since we left for the warzone!" complained a soldier with a heavy New York accent, Private Carl Wainwright, a tough Jew from Queens, though everyone calls him Manhattan. "Hey, y'know, my dad owns a deli shop back at Queens, makes the best Salami sandwich you'll ever eat!"

"Manhattan, ya ain't quite right!" snapped a thicker man sitting next to him with a Southern accent, Private Fred Hangsworth

Chuckling, the New Yorker commented "Kinda like yer sister, huh Hayseed?"

Hangsworth grabbed Manhattan by the shoulder, intending to pound the New Yorker, before Sergeant Ed McHanely intervened "Hey, can it, you two! This ain't boot camp, you know!"

"So, Sarge, wudda we doin' in Washington when we should be back at the base?" asked the soldier next to Miller, Corporal Frank Hunter

"Simple: Ivan's f***ing up the capital real good, and a contingent of the Navy SEALS, Rangers, National Guard, and Green Berets are stranded there, holding off the Ruskies with everything they've got!" replied the Sergeant

Ignoring the use of the F-word, Miller asked "So, is it just the Fighting First?"

"Not exactly, Private, see, the 29th, 1st Armored, 101st Airborne, and the 1st Marines are moving in to help us out, and several battalions from the Virginian National Guard are already on the ground and in the city to help those bastards out."

"Didn't the 1st Marines get their asses handed to them by that nuke 5 years ago?" asked Wainwright

"That was the 2nd Marines, and I'd keep your moth shut in front of Hunter, if ya know what's best for you!" replied the Sergeant

"Yeah, yeah, yeah!"

Miller asked again "So, what're our orders?"

"Simple, we are to move across the Potomac River via the bridges that cross it, and move into the city to relieve the Rangers. The Virginia side of the Potomac is relatively clear of Ivan, now we're moving into D.C itself."

Suddenly, a voice cried out "We're nearly there, get your asses ready!"

"Okay, when the ramp drops, you know what to do!"

Finally, after what seemed like a boring eternity, the ramp dropped, and the soldiers grabbed their weapons and bolted for the outside. Miller rounded the corner and was instantly hit in the lower torso by a stray bullet, and the young soldier's world became pitch black before he even hit the ground.


	2. Bridge Assault

**Chapter 2: Bridge Assault**

Miller woke up a little while later to find McHanely and Hunter trying to carry him up to cover, before a stray bullet hit Hunter in the chest, sending him flying backwards.

"Man down! Hunter's down!" screamed a nearby soldier whom Miller didn't recognize.

Despite this, the Sergeant helped him, and they ran for a nearby wall that stood over the river below, and nearby, a stone bridge that crossed it and would allow access into Washington D.C. Only problem was, there were two tall buildings on the other side with machine gun nests and snipers in the upper levels, so fighting across would be hellishly hard to do.

Taking cover by the wall were various other men of the 1st Infantry, including Hangsworth, Beck, and Manhattan. There were also two other soldiers that looked different from the rest. They were both armed with FN SCARs, their helmets had goggles on them, and one soldier had what looked like a rag wrapped around his neck. A man, Lieutenant Harold Rocewicz, asked one of them "You boys from the Rangers?"

"Yes, sir!" the man replied "Our C.O sent us across the Potomac to escort Army reinforcements towards our squad!"

Suddenly, a hail of bullets streaked through the air, forcing the soldiers to duck, then Hanseworth screamed "Where the hell's our support, Godammit?!"

Suddenly, a soldier managed to take a quick peek at the bridge before getting down, and he reported to Rocewicz "Tanks! T-80s, on the bridge!"

"We need support, dammit, where's our support?!!" screamed one soldier

Finally, a tremendous explosion rocked the bridge as one of the T-80s was destroyed in a giant fireball, its turret flying off and falling into the river. The soldiers looked down the road, and there stood approximately 4 or 5 M1A2 Abrams tanks, one of which was the vehicle that destroyed the Russian tank.

The tanks engaged the T-80s in a brief shellfest until all of the Russian vehicles were knocked out, then in streaked a pair of Apache helicopters which fired a barrage of missiles at the two buildings, reducing them to rubble within seconds.

Beck cheered "Hell yeah, thank you Air Support!"

"Come on, let's go, the bridge is clear, move up!" barked the Lieutenant, a soldier screamed "C'mon, we're Oscar Mike to the bridge, let's go!"

The soldiers got up from their cover and ran towards the bridge, with the tanks not far behind. As they ran across the bridge, a large number of Russian soldiers ran out in full force, their distinct brown uniforms appropriately earning them the nickname "Brownshirts" by the Americans. "Hostiles across the bridge, open fire men!!" ordered McHanely.

The troops did so, firing a barrage of gunfire on the Russians, cutting a number of them down, before the Russians replied with their own gunfire. Miller didn't participate in the first volley, though he soon fired several short three round bursts at several hostiles, taking them down. He continued to fire more bursts into the enemy, scoring his first kills of his combat service.

The Russians provided covering fire so one of their comrades, carrying an RPD, ran up to a pile of sandbags. The man placed the weapon firmly on the bags, and began firing several bursts at the Americans, before he was cut down by Hangsworth's M249, who then let out a long burst into the others, mowing most of them down.

The soldiers climbed and jumped over the barricade of sandbags and barbed wire that stood between them and D.C, Miller hopped over the barbed wire only to hear a click to his left. He turned in that direction to come face to face with a Russian armed with a Desert Eagle to fire it at him, though it was obviously out of ammo. Seeing that it would be a waste to shoot the enemy, Miller walked up to the desperate Russian and whacked him across the face with the butt of his M16.

Miller joined the rest of his squad as they encountered more Russians running out into the street to ambush the enemy. They continued to fire their weapons at them until they ran back into the buildings, the lead M1 Abrams fired at one building with its main cannon, blowing it to bits and undoubtedly killing any Russians that may have been in there.

McHanely turned to the young Private First Class and ordered him "Miller, check out the ruins of that building, we'll clear the others."

Miller nodded, and walked into the ruins of the first building on the left, one of the two where the machine gun nests were. After walking into one room, he was ambushed by a Russian armed with an F2000 who ran up to him and slammed the soldier against the wall. The impact caused his M16 to slip out of his hands, and he was forced into an adrenaline pumping melee duel.

The Russian pressed the gun against Miller, who was desperately trying to push it away from him, until he finally had a chance to smack the soldier, which he did. He hit the Russian across the face with the weapon, though he quickly recovered and ran back towards him, who managed to hit the enemy on the head, though it did not seem to stop him. The two engaged in hand-to-hand combat again, but this time, it was Miller who was putting pressure on his enemy, until he pushed the Russian against the wall. Once again, he quickly recovered and rushed his foe, who was now ready to finish the fight. Once the Russian was close enough, the American whacked the enemy right on the lower chin with the weapon's sights, snapping his neck and ending the struggle.

After his hair raising melee duel with the Russian, Miller's sweep of the house went uneventful as he realized there weren't very many people left alive in the ruins, so he went out into the street. There he found the others dug in behind a long makeshift wall made out of sandbag piles. He ran towards the group, hid behind some sandbags, and fired at the enemy charging the group, the machine gun of the lead Abrams opening up on the Russians, though it hardly fazed them.

Finally, after several minutes of fire, a large amount of Russians were mowed down by a hail of small arms fire, which confused the Americans greatly, as they weren't able to perform this much damage on the enemy troops. The remaining Russians fell back and ran away from this clear display of superior firepower.

Out of the blue came a bunch of soldiers similar to the two Rangers that accompanied the 1st Infantry soldiers, one of them, clearly an African-American, yelled to a soldier of Hispanic descant "Ramirez! Keep an eye on our six, in case Ivan tries to sneak up on us!"

Ramirez snapped "Christ, gimme a break Sarge, jeez!"

Rocewicz yelled to the Sergeant "You the boys from the Rangers?"

"Hooah." Replied one soldier next to the Sergeant who was wearing a Delta Force-style helmet with nigh vision goggles on it.

The Lieutenant, taking the Ranger's answer for a yes, climbed over the sandbags, approached the Sergeant, and extended his hand, saying "Captain Rocewicz, 1st Battalion, 18th Regiment, 1st Infantry."

The Ranger put out his own hand and shook the Lieutenant's, replying "Sergeant Foley, 1st Battalion, 75th Ranger Regiment."

Rocewicz asked "So, you the boys Division sent us to help out?"

"Yep," replied Foley "Us, the SEALS, the National Guard, and the Green Berets. We've been holding this burg for two days straight. Ivan had us cut off, and we were wonderin' if this was the end of us, our Stalingrad."

The Lieutenant smiled and replied "Oh, but in a way, it _is_ our Stalingrad, though _we're_ in the place of the Russians, and _they're _in place of the 6th Army. If everything goes well, I assure you, this battle will break the back of the enemy forces on American soil."

The Ranger with the goggles grumbled "No kidding, Uncle Sam."

"Alright," Foley said "We'll take you to our temporary HQ, in Hotel Bravo, er, the White House. Follow us!"

The Sergeant walked up the street, and the Rangers, soldiers, and the tanks followed him to Whiskey Hotel, the famous White House.


End file.
